


Lupin & Black Incorporated:  The Pyramid of Peril

by Decepticonsensual



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-15 00:38:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11219589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Decepticonsensual/pseuds/Decepticonsensual
Summary: Based on my AU:  Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, Gentlemen Adventurers!  In which Remus Lupin uses his near-indestructible werewolf nature and his vast knowledge of the Dark Arts to become a globe-trotting cursebreaker and general doer of derring-do.  He meets Sirius, wealthy scion of the Black family, while Sirius is having a spot of bother clearing one of the old family properties of Dark creatures, and the two end up going into business (and a few other things) together.In this installment:  Sirius thinks they need a magic carpet.  Remus thinks they just need a better way of vetting their clients.  But frankly, neither of those things are going to get them out of this pyramid.Please see the end for more notes about this AU.





	Lupin & Black Incorporated:  The Pyramid of Peril

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThePraxianWeasleyGeek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePraxianWeasleyGeek/gifts).



“In fairness, you _cannot_ blame me for this.”

 

“I am _not –_ blaming you – I just – suggested –” Remus’s words were coming out in staccato gasps as he wrestled with the ropes that were wound around him and Sirius, mummy-style, lashing them together and suspending them upside-down from the ceiling – “a more – thorough – _hrrrn_!” He gave over and dangled for a moment, closing his eyes. Escapology was not an art Remus had mastered (by deliberate choice – when they travelled, he sometimes had to resort to having Sirius tie him up during the moons, and his own safety and that of the people around him rather depended on him _not_ being good at getting out of restraints).  “A more thorough procedure for vetting our clients, in the future.”

 

Sirius hummed thoughtfully.  “‘Get me that cursed thing so I can destroy it’ jobs and ‘get me that cursed thing so I can run off and conquer the world’ jobs do look remarkably alike until the client leaves you hanging arse over tit in a secret pyramid chamber, yes.”  There was a faint, familiar crackle in the air, and the form pressed against Remus’s back was suddenly hotter and softer, like a wool blanket.  Then it squirmed and twisted, and Sirius-the-dog shot through the ropes as if he’d been greased, turning in mid air to land with a casual grace.

 

Unluckily, the ropes that had been looped around both of them were now too loose to hold Remus by himself, and with a startled yell, he plunged headfirst towards the flagstone floor.  Before he could hit the ground, though, he found himself being tackled and pulled into Sirius’s arms.

 

Remus took a shuddering breath and blinked up at Sirius.  “Good dog,” he murmured.  Sirius huffed a laugh and set him gently on his feet, although Remus noticed he rather took his time about it, and kept his hands on Remus’s waist for a long moment after he’d steadied himself.  Remus allowed himself to relax into Sirius’s touch, his proximity, the smell of his skin under the sweat and grave-dust – and if that last instinct, to seek out his mate’s scent to reassure himself, was a little too wolfish for comfort, Remus also gave himself permission not to worry about it right now.

 

Instead, he pulled away reluctantly and began studying the seamless walls around them, with their intricate ribbons of hieroglyphs.  “We need to replicate the same sequence we found on the pharaoh’s sarcophagus.  If we start with the two reeds in the northwest corner…”

 

“Orrrrrr…” Sirius retrieved his “adventuring” hat – it had a floppy brim and a feather and was the bane of all Remus’s attempts at professional respectability – and drew his wand, grinning.

 

“Sirius, don’t –”  Sirius waved the wand, and the rest of Remus’s warning was drowned out in a roar.

 

***

 

A cluster of American tourists milling about the base of the Sphinx scattered in alarm as the sand erupted upwards, carrying with it two extremely dusty and startled Englishmen.

 

The one with the feathered hat recovered first.  Shaking himself like a dog, he ran off in the direction of the Great Pyramid, yelling something about a magic carpet.

 

The other turned to the tour group and favoured them with a charmingly sheepish smile. “Terribly sorry to have disturbed you.  I promise, everything will be all right in a moment.”  He drew a stick of some kind from his pocket, and –

 

***  
  


“ _Obliviate!”_

 

Remus hurriedly stowed his wand away, and waited until the dazed expressions had left the tourists’ faces, and they’d resumed taking pictures and arguing with each other about Napoleon and the Sphinx’s nose.  Then he finger-combed his hopelessly sandy hair as best he could, put his own hat on – pale straw, and eminently suitable for the climate, no matter what Sirius might say – and strolled casually around a corner to where a large black dog lay in the sun, atop a carpet that, if you bothered to look closely, didn’t quite touch the ground.

**Author's Note:**

> Some notes about the idea of Lupin & Black, Gentlemen Adventurers, as originally posted on Tumblr:
> 
> \- You just know that Sirius’s family owned at least half a dozen seriously gothic-ass properties all over Europe and possibly Asia and North Africa, and they’re all chock full of Dark artefacts and very very haunted. Remus is brought in and finds Sirius, like, half-turned to stone, or dangling from the castle ceiling in the grip of some eldritch tentacles, and Sirius is like look I can explain. And Remus just sighs and asks the universe at large, “Why do they always try to handle it themselves instead of calling the professionals?” and frees Sirius, and then the two of them start spellcasting back-to-back as they take on the rest of the things infesting the house. And then Sirius insists they raid his great-great-grandma’s exceptional winecellar in celebration.
> 
> \- Sirius isn’t allowed to handle the initial meetings with clients anymore. Initially, that was his role: Sirius, the charmer with the pureblood connections, would sit down with these wealthy couples who just found a cursed artefact in Great-Uncle Jolian’s belongings when they inherited his castle, or these harried foreign government officials whose historical sites were still crawling with undead a few weeks before they were supposed to be open for school groups to tour, and he’d offer them a glass of wine and put them at ease, and then, after some gentle questioning and a bit of initial negotiation, he’d bring them to Remus and Remus would explain the specifics of their services and fees. That was the plan. Unfortunately, there followed a few too many occasions where Remus returned to the office, exhausted and gasping for a cup of tea, and was greeted with, “Hiiiiii, Moony, how’ve you been, so… Ikindofsignedusuptofightanactualfiredemonhere’syourcoat,” and now Sirius doesn’t get to meet with prospective clients without Remus present.
> 
> \- Speaking of the office: It’s a compact but impressive-looking office/library setup, with the walls lined with books (some chained in place and rattling ominously) and gothic, sometimes gruesome trophies from past battles with Dark creatures under glass here and there. (They’re all genuine, but most are a lot less intimidating than they look; any trophy or artefact that’s actually dangerous is disposed of safely far away. There are some genuinely dangerous books on the shelves, but they’re the unassuming ones tucked away in the far corners, not the ones making a racket.) Behind a secret doorway, where clients never get to see, is a cozy little kitchenette with faded chintz curtains and a well-used teapot.
> 
> \- Sirius found out Remus was a werewolf early on, by accident: as they were exploring a tomb, Remus triggered a poison dart trap left to protect the remains of a long-dead king. His response was basically an eyeroll, since werewolves are immune to poison. Sirius, who didn’t know any of this, saw only a dart hurdling towards the jugular of his (he thought) fragile and frequently sickly friend, and threw himself between the dart and Remus. One panicked shout, one quick anti-venom spell, and a lot of angry, frightened yelling (from both sides) later, Remus fessed up. Sirius didn’t care about the lycanthropy, but spent two days pouting about Remus not trusting him enough to tell him.
> 
> \- It’s not uncommon for Dark artefacts to prey on an individual’s fears, old wounds, petty jealousies, etc., in the way that the locket does to Ron in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. As a result, Remus and Sirius know each other a lot more intimately than even most couples do. They know each other’s weak points inside out; they have shoring each other up down to a science, so that Sirius knows exactly how to dispel Remus’s nightmarish hallucinations that he’s attacked someone while in wolf form, and Remus knows just what to say to bring Sirius back to himself when the latest cursed goblet starts hissing at them in Regulus’s voice.
> 
> \- Some curses can only be broken (or Dark creatures lulled or driven away) by music. Before Sirius came along, Remus kept magical recordings of old folk and spiritual tunes that he would play on these occasions. Sirius, however, favours charging into danger while screaming wizarding punk hits of the 70s and 80s. Remus sometimes feels like he’d rather take his chances with the curses.


End file.
